Our Bet
by Newt Is My Shank
Summary: Newt and Thomas have a bet. If Newt can't get Thomas to agree to have sex with him by the end of the week, he can't jump on him for the rest of the month. Poor Thomas, he's so screwed.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I do not own The Maze Runner. All rights belong to James Dashner.

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><p><strong>Part I<strong>

Thomas was petrified of sex. There was no other way around it.

Newt craved sex every single minute of the day and often found himself jumping on Thomas at every waking moment.

Scratch that. He was scared of Newt more than he was scared of sex.

Newt was utterly terrifying when he was horny. He was like a cat in heat when summer hit Glade College and Newt found Thomas incredibly hard to resist whenever they were hanging out in the pool on those particularly days.

Thomas, in those incredibly tight sexy swim briefs.

Thomas, dripping wet and smelling of fresh chlorine.

Thomas, _shirtless_.

He was pretty sure he didn't have much sanity left whenever he saw his boyfriend, full stop. Thomas was like a drug. A really really nice drug with sexy abs and a kissable mouth. And was really good at Star Wars trivia.

But never mind that. He had to shag Thomas by the end of the summer or else he might go absolutely bonkers and lose it and shucking murder anyone in a fifty mile radius with a heartbeat.

He didn't know why, either. He had never felt this horny before, not even when he was drunk that one Christmas morning and Thomas was sleeping next to him.

It just….suddenly _happened_. One moment he was in his private dorm room lying on the sofa trying to get some sleep and the next moment he was straddling the former and viciously snogging him until he got pushed off and the former ran into the toilet to hide.

Thomas promised not to make any more surprise visits since then.

**-x-**

And now, Newt was watching Thomas change in front of him and was biting on his knuckles to control himself from just snapping and ravishing his boyfriend right then.

"You okay, Newt?" Thomas asked, raising his eyebrow.

Newt glared at Thomas.

"Bloody hell yes Tommy hurry up you take longer than me when I'm doing my hair," Newt said, a slight begging tone in his voice.

For some reason, it was so incredibly seductive to watch the brunette strip. _Urgh._

"Can't get enough of this, hmm baby?" Thomas teased, flexing his muscles. Newt rolled his eyes, a tint of red on his cheeks, "you sound like Minho."

Thomas mock-gagged at the insult.

Newt sent him an apologetic look, "Sorry, that's too buggin' much, even for me."

The two boys burst into laughter at that and Thomas had to clutch his sides from cramping, snorting at the insult and the blonde was weeping hysterically, not feeling at all sorry for his Asian friend.

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><p>Somewhere on campus, Minho sneezed.<p>

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><p>"That aside, why the shuck are you so addicted to the bloody pool?" Newt questioned, trying <em>so shucking hard <em>not to eye up his bloody tease of a boyfriend._  
><em>

Thomas sat down beside him to apply lotion on his legs, "Are you that eager to die in your comfortable king-sized bed?"

"Yes," Newt whispered, feeling an aching warmth in his abdomen, "if I get you pinned under me, writhing and mouth full of my cock, I don't bloody mind dying." Newt licked this boyfriend's earlobe, dotting little butterfly kisses around his jawline.

"_Tommy_," Newt begged him, eyes dilating into slits, currently straddling the brunette's lap, arms wrapped possessively around the younger man's shoulders, "please?"

Newt buried his head on Thomas's chest, praying for just _one shucking day _where his Tommy would bloody agree so he could finally get rid of the fire in him.

Newt felt a pair of hands on his shoulders.

_Dammit, Tommy._

"I won't fuck you no matter what you say Newt," Thomas soothed gently, tilting the blonde's head so their eyes met, "okay that was a terrible way to phrase it, but I'd really prefer if we don't do it."

"_Why_?" Newt whined, annoyed. His brown eyes flashed dangerously at his boyfriend and Thomas felt a slight tingle of fear up his spine.

The blonde tugged down his boyfriend's tank top and slammed their lips together.

It was passionate, lustful. Newt sucking fiercely on Thomas's lower lip, tongues battling for dominance, hands wandering around each other's feverish chests. They were a hot mess within seconds, hungrily inhaling each others' unique scents. Thomas was husky cologne, Newt was peppermint.

"God, Newt," Thomas growled, burying his face onto the blonde's neck, nipping viciously onto the pale-white skin. Even after days and bloody weeks under the sun, Newt's beautiful skin never darkened. Gorgeous Newt. _His _Newt.

"Mmm Tommy, you're so shucking good," Newt murmuring between kisses. His hand very slowly reaching the growing tent in his boyfriend's pants.

Thomas froze when he felt Newt palming this crotch.

"Newt - " Thomas gasped, face completely red.

"Shhh, Tommy, just relax and let me do all the bloody work," Newt smirked, satisfied that Thomas finally admitted defeat and let him shag him._  
><em>

That was Newt's first mistake.

Thomas broke the kiss and forced the over-confident blonde off his lap.

"Newt," Thomas glared angrily at the blonde, "_I said no."_

At that particular moment, all time stopped around them. The anger behind Thomas's eyes suddenly softened at the sight of the frozen blonde. Normally Newt would fight back and moan and whine but this time, he was eerily silent.

_Too silent_.

"Newt?"

The blonde shoved the brunette away from him. Thomas fell back slightly on the bed, eyes wide with confusion and hurt.

"N….Newt?"_  
><em>

"Shut up, you bloody shucking shank."

Thomas expected tears, maybe sobbing. If Newt really did cry, his heart would eventually give in to the heart-throbbing, beautiful expression on his boyfriend's face and relent. Maybe he'd give in to his demands, and then he would be in trouble.

The blonde finally looked up, and Thomas almost _shivered _at the emotion behind Newt's eyes.

Rage, hurt, _determination_.

"Hey Tommy," Newt said, voice silky and full of lust, "let's make a bet, eh?"

Thomas merely blinked as Newt crawled on all fours, slowly making his way towards him, the brunette watching the latter's actions with great caution, as if he would jump him again.

"If _I_, can't make you agree to fuck me within a week, I'll lay off the jumping for a _month_," Newt's eyes met his boyfriend's, his brown orbs burning with resolve. _It's not as if I'll last long with this shucking boyfriend of mine walking around with those bloody nice abs of his. I'll have to go into hibernation if I lose, _Newt thought.

"Deal," Thomas agreed slowly, his eyes never leaving the blonde's.

The smile on Newt's face had never been so predatory.

Thomas had a really shitty feeling that he just dug his own grave.

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><p><strong>Reviews. Are. Highly. Appreciated.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **I do not own TMR. All rights belong to James Dashner.

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><p><strong>Part II<strong>

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><p>There were only five rules in the bet.<p>

The very first rule was that Thomas could not get angry or hurt Newt if he did something he didn't like in order to seduce him.

The second rule was that Newt could not fuck or _attempt _to fuck Thomas if it was not consensual/consent was not given by Thomas. This was an extremely important rule that Thomas continuously made Newt swear to. The breaking of this rule would make the bet void.

The third rule was that absolutely _nobody_, not even the Gladers, could have any knowledge of this bet. And of course, this rule was consequently broken when Minho walked into Newt's room, heard the word 'bet' escape his lips, went over to pat Thomas on the shoulder and bluntly told him he was screwed.

This led to the fourth rule being administrated, and that the individuals who were not involved in the bet but who had knowledge of the bet were strictly barred to participate in said bet.

And that was how the fifth rule was formed. The third party not directly involved in the bet were forbidden to leak this bet to any authority figure under any circumstances (mainly the campus faculty) since Minho decided to send a message to the Gladers' Whatsapp group telling everyone about the bet seconds after leaving the dorm room.

There was currently a betting pool circulating in the group.

Thomas's chances were not very high.

**-x-**

Newt flinched at the contact of cold water hitting his face.

"Come on, Newt, the water's fine!" Thomas yelled out cheekily, splashing more water onto the extremely disgruntled blonde.

"It's buggin' cold, Tommy," Newt complained, inching away slowly from the brunette, who didn't hear him due to the sound of his laughter echoing inside the indoor pool, "and would you bloody cut that out?!"

"_Nope_," Thomas smirked, slowly paddling towards his boyfriend, not taking his eyes away from the beautiful blonde.

Newt backed away slightly, wary of what Thomas would do next. It already took him more than enough self-control to not rip Thomas's bloody briefs off and just suck him off right then when they were on their way to the pool.

"Come here, beautiful," Thomas purred, placing two strong hands on the blonde's knees, tracing comforting circles on his kneecaps.

"W-Who's seducing who now?" Newt laughed bitterly, face redder than ever. The mere touch of the stronger boy had completely overwhelmed his senses. As usual, he was bloody surprised he was able to hold out for this long.

"You're better at it though," Thomas chuckled, gripping at the edge of the pool before bringing himself up and placing a sloppy kiss on the vice president's lips, smiling when he felt a shivering hand reach down and bring their faces closer together.

"You smell like chlorine," Newt pouted, breaking the kiss when he felt the brunette slink back into the water, licking his lips unconsciously, "I don't get to taste the actual _you_."

"Oh?" Thomas asked curiously, relaxing against the pool's walls, his torso trapped by the blonde's slender legs, so he could easily look up to see the blonde playing with his damp hair, "so how do I normally smell like?"

"Musk, aftershave," Newt hummed softly, enjoying the way the brunette lay his head comfortably on the blonde's thigh, letting him do as he pleased.

Thomas scrunched up his nose, "That isn't exactly a very nice taste."

"But it's _your _taste," Newt argued. Not finding anything to say to that, Thomas gave a contented sigh and rested against his boyfriend, succumbing to the gentle, soothing strokes of his boyfriend's fingers, not knowing what said boyfriend had in mind for him while he was in that vulnerable position of his.

_Shucks, you're so beautiful, Tommy_, Newt licked his lips appreciatively, skillful fingers trailing across the brunette's taut torso.

Thomas groaned at the touches, igniting a spark of courage into Newt.

He sat himself closer to the edge of the pool so his legs could get a tighter grip on Thomas, a plan already formulating in his head.

_He never said anythin' about teasing_, Newt thought with a smirk.

With a heavy breath, his fingers gently trailed across the swimmer's collarbone, marveling at the tiny moles dotting across his shoulders, the water accentuating the athlete's tanned skin. He still couldn't believe this boy was his. All his.

The Student Council's bitch and the Sports Fanatic. He knew weirder couples though, such as the Serial Prankster (Minho) and the Clinically Insane Chemist (Theresa).

They hit off quite nicely, and when he meant nicely, it meant that Theresa occasionally 'helped' Minho with some of his pranks. The infamous 'laugh bomb' set off at the beginning of the year had been officially the start of their terrifying partnership.

But never mind them.

He watched droplets of water trickle down his boyfriend's built arms, fascinated at how water enhanced his Tommy's beautiful body. As if Thomas could be any more perfect.

Tentatively, he lightly brushed against the tanned male's nipples, very gently with his fingertips, eyes lighting up in excitement as the other boy shuddered pleasurably at the action, attentively catching the low groan threatening to escape the brunette's throat.

"Newt…what are you doing?" Thomas groaned, shifting slightly.

"Sorry," Newt apologized, not at all sounding sorry, "you seem tired, Tommy, I'll give you a little massage."

Thomas nodded dazedly, not thinking too much about how worrying that offer seemed.

Surprised that he actually agreed, Newt instantly went to work, analyzing Thomas's body with great concentration, suddenly not knowing where to start.

His back? His neck? His arms?

_Back first, _Newt thought.

The blonde took a deep breath and tapped his fingers hurriedly on the brunette's shoulders, trying to calm his mind. He needed to do this perfectly to build up pressure. With an anxious sigh, Newt rubbed the boy's back with his palms, watching the boy fondly as a content smile entered the brunette's features.

"You like that?" Newt asked softly, slowly kneading his boyfriend's tense shoulders, flushing harder and harder as Thomas moaned irresistibly into his hands, completely succumbing to the blonde. The tenseness was slowly being kneaded away by his angel's skilled fingers and hell, Thomas felt fucking _wonderful_.

"More, Newt," Thomas hummed, completely letting his guard down as Newt's eyes lit up mischeviously at the suggestion. Sometimes he just loved how Thomas was seriously the most innocent and naïve thing he'd ever met. Not saying he liked to take advantage of him but…

"AhhhhAAAhhhh!" Thomas suddenly moaned when Newt hit a sweet spot.

Newt jumped slightly at that, but his excitement merely increased. He was pleased that his Tommy was enjoying this so much. _All according to plan_, he thought.

"I should touch you like this more often," Newt smirked cheekily.

Thomas grunted in response but didn't try to stop Newt, which further fueled his confidence. He thus proceeded to give a nerve-wracking massage that would most definitely leave Thomas crying out in ecstasy at a mere touch by the end of the day.

**-x-**

Thomas arched his back in surprise, hitting the pool's wall with a painful_thwump!_ as his boyfriend scoured and massaged his body, rubbing him in places that would've surely left him begging for more, his body becoming more sensitive by the minute as his boyfriend's fingers left scorching tendrils of pleasure at their wake.

"Magic f-fingers," Thomas choked out, gripping the blonde's thigh achingly, his face already turning ten different shades of red.

"Ain't it?" Newt chuckled, giving his boyfriend's ear a childish lick.

Newt was utterly satisfied at this point. He had turned his hardcore boyfriend into a sobbing, convulsing mess in _minutes_. And the best part was Thomas was literally begging for _more _of it.

The worst part? Newt was rock-hard and he was desperately hoping Thomas couldn't feel his hard on.

"Nghhh…._Newt_," Thomas hissed as Newt roughly pressed his sweet spot at the small of his back, eliciting delicious moans from the brunette's mouth, "n-n-not there…please…mmghhHHH!"

_Bloody shucking hell_, Newt bit his lip sharply, drawing blood,_ anymore of those bloody delicious sounds and I'm –_

Suddenly, Thomas pulled away.

Newt was stunned as he briefly saw the back of his boyfriend before said boyfriend shot back into the water.

Newt waited.

5 seconds passed.

10 seconds passed.

30 seconds passed.

Newt was biting on a hangnail waiting for Thomas to return back to shore.

By the 45th second, Thomas made his appearance.

His back was facing Newt, arms folded in a defensive position, and if Newt arched his head slightly, he could see a tinge of red in his ears.

"That was a seduction attempt, right?" Thomas croaked.

Newt muttered a faint, "yes". Where was this going?

And then he suddenly realized. If Thomas had his back turned to him and was doing his damn best to submerge in the water and was blushing…that meant….

Newt smirked, "You're hard, aren't you?"

Silence. "…No…." Thomas muttered shyly.

Newt stood up, grabbed a towel and tossed it to the ever-so embarrassed brunette, eyes twinkling at the feeling of accomplishment in making his boyfriend hard.

"Cover up, shank, this day ain't over yet."

Newt could hear tearful complaints on how life was so shucking unfair.

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><p><strong><em>Operation Tease #1: SUCCESS<em>**

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><p>If you'd like, follow me on <strong>Tumblr<em>.<em>**My blog's name is **newtismyshank**.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **I do not own TMR. All rights belong to James Dashner.

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><p><strong>Part III<strong>

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><p>"For a Straight-A about-to-be valedictorian of our year, you whip up a real dirty prank, shank," Minho smirked, winking at his partner-in-crime as he played around with her test tube set, much to her annoyance.<p>

"Those are extremely fragile equipment you're playing with, not _toys_," she gritted her teeth, busying herself over the sink, hastily scrubbing some dirty dishes they had earlier. Minho eyed her curiously.

"White lace? Sexy," he purred mischievously, watching in delight as Theresa whipped her head at him and blushed furiously, only just noticing that she had bent over far enough for her to show off her rather risqué underwear.

"Pervert!" Theresa hissed, blushing to the roots of her hair.

"I can't believe you shucking wore them," Minho chuckled, walking over to the love of his life before planting a quick kiss on her cheek, "so how'd you like your birthday present?"

"Other than the fact that they're unexpectedly comfy, I believe they benefit your perverse tastes more than mine," Theresa replied cynically, still red as she returned the kiss.

"But you love me for that anyway, right?" Minho poked her ribs impatiently.

Theresa smirked at him, "I was going to say something else, but let's go with that."

"Bitch!" Minho gawped at her, clutching his heart dramatically.

Theresa rolled her eyes.

**-x-**

"Vanilla with chocolate syrup? The usual?"

"Yep! Thanks Fry."

"Honestly Tommy, there're at least thirty different flavors here and you pick the one flavor that's sold _everywhere_," Newt rolled his eyes at the brunette, who was currently bouncing on the backs of feet, waiting agitatedly for his confectionary treat.

"It's a classic!" Thomas pouted stubbornly.

"As I shucking said, _it's sold everywhere_," Newt snorted, glancing over the wide selection of ice-cream, ranging from Thomas's favorite classic vanilla to the more unique flavors such as salted caramel and grapefruit, "Dumb Tommy."

"You know what's dumb? Buying ice-cream at a _**pastry**_ shop," Frypan noted, clearly unamused, giving the pair the stink eye.

"Your ice-cream is the best in town," Thomas praised sincerely, not recognizing the poisonous look his favorite ice-cream maker was sending him.

"And the only one," Newt piped up unhelpfully.

Frypan sighed and looked up at the ceiling, as if thinking, _Of all people I must be stuck with, it has to be these two shanks._

"What do you want, Newt?" Thomas asked, breaking the ice-cream maker's thoughts.

Newt glared questioningly at the flavors in sight. He bought a different flavour every week and noted down their taste and quality in great detail in his food book so as to ensure to never buy them again if the situation came up.

He absolutely hated ice-cream and would honestly never buy any even if he was starving and ice-cream was the last only edible food to eat on earth. But his Tommy just _had _to be a fanatic for sweets and _every single shucking week _he'd look at Newt all sad and cute and whimper "_please please pretty please Newt I haven't had any all week" _whenever they stopped by Frypan's pastry shop.

At first Newt thought he was begging for sex and his smile was so evil as he said "yes" and was frantically preparing ways to fuck his little Tommy into submission until he realized Thomas was dragging him to the direction of the pastry shop and ordered that one bloody flavor while pressuring the dazed and baffled Newt to order one as well.

Newt had banged his head against the door repeatedly at that until Frypan told him to shut up.

What was worse was Thomas did this _every single week. _Without. Fail.

Newt did not have the heart to turn him down.

"We don't have all day 'ere, Newt," Frypan cut in, tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter.

And then, Newt had an idea.

"Do you have popsicles?"

Thomas and Frypan raised their eyebrows at him.

"Now that's just an insult," Frypan huffed, insulted, "_anyone_ can make popsicles."

"And you hate popsicles," Thomas noted, eyeing his blonde boyfriend suspiciously.

"They're not _that _bad," Newt rubbed Thomas's head affectionately, watching as Frypan disappeared behind the counter.

"I bought a pack for us to try two months ago. You took one bite, spit it out, called it a 'monstrosity to mankind', threw the box outside the window, hit Ben's fender, yelled British curses at it before I had to drag you away and cuddle you until you calmed down," Thomas explained placidly.

"I remembered the cuddling," Newt grinned.

"I remembered when you tried to fuck me afterwards," Thomas grumbled, earning a cheeky smirk from his boyfriend.

"Alright," Frypan interrupted their lovey-dovey time, slamming down two boxes of popsicles, "Cherry, grape, lime, or orange?"

"Cherry, thanks mate," Newt winked playfully at the older man, earning an eye-roll from his boyfriend. Frypan sighed and ordered them to pay up.

They paid for their treats and settled into an empty corner of the shop. It was their so-called 'favorite spot' because it was at the back of the shop and had a little curtain they could pull down for privacy and block themselves from the other patrons' view.

As soon as they sat down Thomas hungrily devoured his vanilla cone, much to the other man's amusement.

"It's so delicious~" Thomas sighed happily, cheeks flushing warmly.

Newt perked up and pointed to his cheek.

"There's a little spot there, Tommy."

Before Thomas could wipe off the stain, Newt leaned over the table and cupped his boyfriend's cheek, relishing the blush the brunette was emitting at the closeness before placing his lips over the vanilla cream, licking it slowly, enjoying the little shudder Thomas's body produced as he licked the spot clean.

"Disgusting," Newt muttered, cringing at the sweetness.

"W-What was that for?!" Thomas spluttered, finally broken out of his reverie.

"There was something on your cheek," Newt smiled innocently.

Thomas shook his head, trying to brush off the atomic blush on his cheeks. "Eat your stupid popsicle," he pouted stubbornly.

As if just acknowledging the existence of his popsicle, he picked it up tentatively with his fingertips, giving the overly-colorful wrapper a disgruntled look before ripping it away. The popsicle was – as he ordered – cherry red, with a smooth, phallic shape and if he looked closely enough, had a vanilla jelly center.

"Looks good," Thomas added between bites.

Newt steeled himself, shaking away thoughts on how positively disgusting the popsicle looked. This was the moment he was going to make Thomas drop his jaw and drool and forget about that stupid vanilla ice-cream.

Making sure Thomas had his eyes on him, Newt started to suck at the tip, mentally forcing himself not to vomit as the cold cherry taste hit his tastebuds.

He wrapped his tongue around its shape, trying to melt it faster as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, little droplets of cherry ice slipping down his jaw, watching his boyfriend intently for any sort of reaction.

He heard the sound of ice-cream dropping onto the floor.

Newt smirked. With a determined lick, he continued on.

**-x-**

Thomas's jaw dropped, eyes widening a fraction at the sight his cute angel was showing.

He had been happily enjoying his vanilla ice-cream a mere few seconds ago before Newt decided to do…._this_…. to him.

What became plain curiosity at his boyfriend's actions turned to full-on lust after seeing how bloody _erotic _Newt was deep-throating that popsicle.

He could only stare on as the phallus-shaped treat glided in and out of his blonde boyfriend's mouth. Newt's tongue, pink but slowly turning red, darted around the sides, before coming back to the top to lick the melting tip. And then in a slow, languid motion, his cherry-red lips slid down the entire side to lap up its thick base.

_Fuck_. Thomas could feel a growing heat in his pants, steadily supporting his enlarging hard on.

He felt his mouth dry up as blood rushed to his cheeks and crotch. Haziness and lust wiped away the former curiosity in his eyes. He swallowed thickly, his eyes not leaving the blonde's.

"N-Newt?" Thomas choked out hoarsely.

With a playful wink, Newt sucked viciously at its tip, watching in feverish excitement as Thomas gripped the table harshly, glaring at his tease of a boyfriend as the droplets dribbled down his chin and dropped onto his exposed collarbone.

_I want to lick that, _Thomas gulped inaudibly. His melting ice-cream was left completely forgotten on the floor.

As if the situation couldn't get any more dirtier than this, Newt started making those….s_ounds_.

The blonde's eyes dilated into silts, blushing and moaning wantonly as he sucked his popsicle like it was a real cock. He tilted his head back, a growing feeling of anticipation. He felt the cold liquid trickle down his neck, eliciting a strangled groan from his boyfriend.

"Mmm…Tommy, you're so huge…I don't think I can take you all in~" Newt whined beautifully, sliding the popsicle deeper down his throat, a familiar warmth returning to his abdomen, winding him up. This was no longer a popsicle, but a thick, hot cock. Tommy's cock.

The thought of it sent pleasurable tingles up Newt's spine. His gaze returned to his boyfriend, whose face was redder than the popsicle he was blowing. His eyes were burning with a fiery lust, hands gripping the table, as if to control himself from losing it and bending Newt over.

"Ah."

Thomas could almost feel his heart stop at the sight before him.

Newt had bit on the top a little too harshly and the vanilla jelly squirted from its center and landed messily on the blonde's face. Thomas bit his lip till it bled and forced himself not to cry out at Newt's current appearance.

His pale skin was flushed, eyes clouded over with confusion and that stupid shucking adorableness that made guys left right center want to jump him _and that damn popsicle still in his mouth still squirting vanilla jelly._

Who could blame Thomas if he had to stand the damn sight of his boyfriend looking as if he just finished blowing someone off and had cum drawn beautifully over his shucked-out face.

At that point of time, Thomas swore he could not only sense, but _feel _every single strand of his sanity leave him.

"Tommy?" Newt moaned, exhausted, looking up at his stoned boyfriend with those _DAMN SHUCKING PUPPY DOG EYES OF HIS._

"_I want to blow you_."

And that, was how Newt broke Thomas.

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><p>That afternoon, passers-by reported a beet-red teenager running out of a pastry shop screaming obscenities at the heavens before slamming face-first into a lamppost and getting a concussion.<p>

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><p><strong>Operation: Tease Attempt #2. SUCCESS<strong>

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><p>And this is why I <strong>can't write smut for shit<strong>.

By the way, I'll be busy for the next couple of days and thus will be unable to write. Stick with me anyways, though! ***eats a cookie***


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **I do not own TMR. All rights go to James Dashner because he's the brilliant man who brought us TMR and he's pretty hot for an old guy.

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><p>Due to popular demand, here is <strong>Part IV <strong>of **Our Bet**! Before I start it off I would like to give my thanks to the wonderful people who **Alert **and **Favorite **my stories as they honestly do make me enjoy writing, but to most especially the people who take the time to drop **Reviews **as they push me to write even more (except the one person who posted some weird link in **Our Bet**'s review page I was like 'WTF is this shit?').

A special thanks to **_Shiori and Shiroi _**and **_fauveism_**. I've seen you guys frequently dropping me reviews and that's wonderful thank you for those reviews they mean a lot to me and I'm grateful you're taking time to write them out. Remember lengthy constructive and non-ragey reviews make me really motivated! Love you all honestly!

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><p><strong>Part IV<strong>

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><p>"You're a bloody idiot, you know that right?"<p>

Thomas mumbled grumpily, not meeting his boyfriend's mocking eyes as he opened his mouth slightly, letting the blonde drop a creamy blob of chicken soup into his mouth.

"Imagine that, a concussion after running into a pole," Newt chuckled as Thomas made a face at the soup's texture, sticking out his tongue with a disgusted 'Blehhh!' as he got ready another spoonful, "and then catching a cold after falling into a lake."

"It was an accident," Thomas grumbled, folding his arms crossly, shaking his head when Newt tried to feed him another mouthful of the overly-creamy soup.

The blonde's eyebrows twitched in annoyance.

"Eat."

"Don't wanna."

"It's good for you."

"I'm not hungry."

"Don't be a brat, Tommy."

Thomas shot a glare at the blonde at the insult. He hated being called a brat.

"It's too thick."

Newt rolled his eyes. Wasn't chicken soup supposed to be thick?

"Are you questioning my cooking skills?"

Thomas eyes widened at that and almost succumbed to the sad, puppy dog expression on the angel's face. He really needed to get used to his boyfriend's facial expressions at some point of time. But hell, Newt couldn't make a sandwich if his life depended on it. Thomas could still remember the time where Newt tried to make a 'bento' two months ago. Thomas wasn't an expert in making 'bentos' but he sure as hell knew rice balls did not look black and tempura was not supposed to look like carrots.

"Eat up, big boy," Newt smiled cheekily when he watched Thomas's defiance wane.

Thomas flushed.

"Don't call me that!"

Newt gave a childish giggle as he prodded the brunette's mouth with the spoon, staring at those beautiful red lips clenching around the silver utensil, sucking up the soup and gulping it in one go. The blonde watched as a trail of creamy liquid trickle down his chin and could feel blood rise to his cheeks at the sight. His Tommy lying lazily on the bed, sheets drawn messily over his clothed body, tissues by his side and face flushing a beautiful red.

Newt's heart drummed against his chest. Thomas could be quite teasing without knowing it.

"I hate creamy stuff," Thomas complained, letting his boyfriend clean up the stain on his chin as he kicked off his sheets. His body was burning like hell and his shirt was drenched from sweat. He desperately wanted Newt to turn on the air-conditioner but the blonde was adamant against it even though it was like stifling hot outside and with the burning heat of the soup in his throat things were not making Thomas any cooler.

Newt's jaw dropped slightly.

Damn, did Thomas always look that good sweaty and shirtless?

_Self-control, Newt, self-control,_ Newt repeated over and over again, trying to drill into his head that Thomas was sicker than a dog and this would probably not be the best time to get his blood boiling with furor and make him overexert himself.

No matter how much said boyfriend was moaning and groaning into the sheets looking like he just got fucked and was riding out his release.

Thomas coughed haphazardly, breaking Newt's thoughts, causing him to panic and almost drop the bowl of soup onto the floor.

"Lozenges? Water? What can I get for you?"

Thomas gazed tiredly at his boyfriend's face and nearly laughed. His shaggy blonde hair had been pulled back into a very housewife-like ponytail, and with his androgynous features, he certainly could pull off as one. His eyebrows were drawn together in worry, brown eyes dark with anxiety and his fingers nervously tapping against the bedpost. He was wearing a frilly pink apron – yeah Thomas didn't even knew he owned one either and he certainly had no complaints about it – , a simple white shirt and baggy black pants that were too big for him.

Housewife Newt. Such a simple yet visually adorable concept.

"You as a housewife," escaped Thomas's mouth before he could take them back.

Newt stared at him incredulously.

The blonde could barely tell whether the brunette was joking or not, but even if he wasn't, he could already feel himself grabbing a pillow to shield Thomas from seeing his blush.

"R-Repeat what you just said."

Thomas blinked at the blonde, wondering why he was turning away from him and covering his face with a pillow.

"I want you to be my housewife," Thomas started to giggle, having the decency to blush at what he just said. He was pretty sure this was **Sick!**Thomas talking but he honestly just didn't give a damn. Newt had been making him blush and horny all day and it was only the first day of their bet. He had four more days to deal with his bullshit before he actually cracked, and since Newt was a very reasonable person he wouldn't go as low as to tease him when he was vulnerable. He should enjoy his grace period while it lasted.

"Why a housewife?"

Newt sat down on the side of the bed, his blush calming down to light shades of pink as he brushed the brunette's sweaty fringe away, lip biting in worry as he felt his love's forehead. It was warmer than normal human temperature, and it hadn't gone down since an hour ago. He was sniffing quite a bit but he stopped coughing after a few minutes.

"Cuz you can take care of me all the time," Thomas smiled goofily, the heat finally getting to his brain, "and you can wear an apron."

Newt's eyebrows shot up to his forehead.

"You like it when I wear an apron?" Newt looked down self-consciously at the too-pink apron hanging loosely around his frame. This was probably Theresa's though. Only Minho would buy her something that girly before deciding to lend it to Newt.

"Yeah!" Thomas's face brightened up, causing his flush to peak a few degrees as he sat up, almost knocking Newt off his feet.

"You should wear a dress," Thomas blurted.

Newt's face had gone from pink to shock-white in a second. Maybe it was just him, or that Thomas had suddenly become very aggressive, but he had a good feeling that he should knock him out before he started to do anything drastic. Like the time he jumped off a moving ferry 'just for kicks' and then tried to sit on a grumpy panda who was clearly on its period and not to mention very angry.

"You would look so cute," Thomas gushed lovingly, pulling the dazed blonde into his arms and almost crushing him in an iron grip, "you'd look good in a short one, shows off your sexy legs." Thomas watched in amusement as Newt turned fifty shades of red, desperately trying to remove himself from the brunette before he started to do things he might regret.

"And then stockings," a nostalgic look passed through Thomas's eyes, "black ones, and a garter belt."

Thomas could involuntarily feel Newt shiver at the thought as Thomas held onto him, relishing the feeling of being the dominant one in the relationship, the tease and not the one that got teased, and he realized why Newt _enjoyed _being the tease. It was delightful seeing your submissive in a vulnerable and weak position as you slowly drove them to their breaking point.

"You'd look so sexy," Thomas slithered up the blonde's loose shirt, feeling the cold, smooth skin on his fingertips as Newt bucked into him and moaned, gripping harshly onto the bed sheets, "pure and innocent, yet so damn _hot_."

Thomas brushed over the blonde's already pert nipple and pinched it, eliciting a cry of pleasure from vice president as he bit down on Thomas's shirt, trying to muffle his hoarse groans as the brunette continued his ministrations on his chest, the apron straps already falling off his shoulders as he attempted again and again to pry himself off, but to no avail.

"Tommy," Newt bit his lip, doing his best to control himself from trying to take advantage of a sick person, "we should stop."

"Why?" Thomas growled, nipping harshly on his boyfriend's earlobe, enjoying the satisfactory shudder the blonde produced as he continued licking it, watching him for any further reactions, "You've been a fuckin' huge tease all day, you deserve it."

Newt buried his head against his chest, trying out to muffle out that stupidly husky and addictive tone his Tommy was using as he grinded against his thigh. He didn't want to do this, even if his entire body screamed for it, but he had limits, and this was one.

Yet, he couldn't stop.

Newt felt tears prickling his eyes as Thomas teasingly played with his sore nipples, pulling them, stroking them and rubbing them to the point where people would notice them sticking out under his shirt. Newt flushed in embarrassment at such a dirty exhibitionist thought, knowing full well he might want that hand down to where he wanted it most.

"Stop, Tommy, please –" Newt's breath was cut short as he felt another sensation on lower abdomen. His voice escaped him completely and he could only reply in choked sobs as Thomas's calloused hand started palming his crotch, stroking his clothed shaft with slow, tantalizing strokes. If Newt wasn't already broken before, he surely could shatter now. The combined touches on his chest and cock were starting to overwhelm him completely.

And then Thomas released him from restraints. He had to bite back every single moan that exploded his body as he felt a warm hand around his throbbing, leaking cock, pumping it slowly as he moaned and groaned into the brunette's neck, cursing himself for his lack of control over his sex-craving body.

Newt could already feel him reaching his climax as he humped himself against Thomas's hand, begging for more friction as he whimpered into the tan neck, licking eagerly at the sultry, salty taste of Thomas as he could feel the fire in his cock explode.

"Please Tommy –"

He needed to cum. Four more strokes, and he would've done him in.

First stroke. Newt was wailing frustratingly against Thomas's neck, thrashing wildly as he pressed his thumb over the tip, leaking wanton strips of pre cum down his shaft.

Second stroke. Thomas was pressing against his vein, sending Newt over the edge as he wrapped his arms around his neck, breathing haggardly and silently begging for him to end it. End this beautiful torture he had been forced into.

Third stroke. Newt could already feel himself exploding with ecstasy as Thomas gave him a hard thrust that drove his already unstable mind overboard, the brunette's eyes never leaving his own.

"Please, please, please Tommy let me cum please – "

The fourth stroke never came.

Newt had waited. He'd bloody waited for three seconds before realizing Thomas had removed himself from his hard cock and laid back against the bed post, hands behind his head in a very relaxed manner and a smug, victorious smile on his face.

The expression on Newt's face changed drastically.

Newt had never felt so sexually frustrated before, and if he wasn't sexually frustrated now, he probably knew he was probably along the lines of pissed off and angry. No, not just angry. Positively, absolutely furious.

"Tommy, **_what are you doing_**?"

Thomas's smile never faltered, though he did admit a flash of fear had crossed his eyes at the possibly dangerous look entered the normally cheery blonde's features.

"That was payback for teasing me all day."

Newt blinked at him, rage still bottled up in his eyes.

"Have fun jacking off," Thomas said sweetly, "as you do know, I'm sick, and you probably have better values than to take advantage of a sick person, hmm?"

Thomas could almost hear Newt cursing himself for having morals.

Thomas felt a cold glare hit him, and shivered excitedly.

"I hate you sometimes, Tommy."

Before Thomas could even blink, the blonde had jumped off the bed and escaped into the bathroom where he slammed the door shut with a **_BAM!_**

Thomas grinned to himself and pulled up the covers, satisfied when he heard the not-so discreet groans coming from the bathroom.

_Revenge is sweet_.

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><p><strong>And here is Part IV of <span>Our Bet<span>! It's a bit different, more of the take of Thomas being the aggressive one and finally paying back Newt for what he did to him. Just wanted to try somethin' new, hope y'all shanks liked it.**

**As usual, reviews are very highly appreciated. Reviews, not spam, thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **I _still _do not own TMR. All rights belong to James Dashner.

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><p><strong>Part V<strong>

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><p>Thomas had regretted it.<p>

It had been nearly two days since he pulled that stunt with Newt. And knowing the blonde, he wouldn't stand to let it go and not do something about it. Despite his passive-aggressive – but mainly submissive – attitude in bed, Thomas knew Newt absolutely _hated _losing. He hated it more than not having sex. Not that he had any. But still.

He was almost sure Newt was going to pay him back for what he did. And he was going to make sure he was going to bloody _suffer_.

Now that Thomas thought about it, it didn't sound as unpleasant as he thought it out to be.

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><p>"It still bloody amazes me what shit you guys are into," Newt said dryly, staring at the outfit in Teresa's arms.<p>

"Ask the chick, she's the kinky one," Minho teased, swiftly avoiding the punch aimed to him by his girlfriend who suddenly decided a clothes hanger was a pretty good weapon, "crazy about toys and klunk like that."

"No steak for dinner," Teresa countered instantly, forming her own smile as her boyfriend's fell. To Minho, steak was the equivalent to hot, steamy sex. There were instances where the meat-craving Asian would dodge a night of a kinky 'Alone-Time-With-Teresa' for a good steak from the local barbeque hut across the college.

"Anyways," the female ignored the whines of her meat-loving boyfriend – much to Newt's amusement- , "If you want, I could get one your size. This one might be a little too small for you."

Newt studied the outfit with nervous suspicion, pulling out the rather risqué netting and silky black fabric. It had a rather low neckline, seeing as it was mainly for girls. It was sexy as hell, he admitted, but it probably might not look good on him. Also, it came with pretty kinky underwear and he was _so _not willing to wear - *cue shiver* - _panties_.

"Got anythin' else?" Newt asked, passing back the outfit.

Teresa studied the blonde in front of her, raising her eyebrow in concentration. For Newt, he'd probably look good in anything. Hell, he could wear a trash bag and he'd still look reasonably hot. He was slim and slender, with very fair skin and – Oh the Unfairness! – sparse body hair. His fluffy blonde hair was always messy, but in that sexy 'just-got-fucked' kind of way and his facial features simply screamed 'Angel in Disguise'.

Teresa licked her lips. If only Newt was buff, she'd totally go for him.

"Tom said he liked you as a housewife, right?" Teresa asked, watching curiously as the blonde turned red at the memory.

"Y-Yeah," Newt stuttered, looking away and blushing adorably.

Minho and Teresa visibly tensed. They wondered _how the hell _did Thomas have so much self-control being around Newt. They were probably imagining it, but they could almost see hearts and rainbows and pheromones _reek _from the blonde's pores. Minho was already looking away trying to look interested in his phone before he did something that would probably get him kicked in the balls by both his best friend as his girlfriend.

"I don't think you need any special outfits, honestly," Teresa quickly wiped the drool from her lips, "you have a nice body any guy would wanna – excuse my language – fuck."

"But this isn't any guy, it's _Tommy_," Newt insisted, acting as if Thomas was some god who was completely immune to his charms and his beauty. But Teresa knew better. She knew Thomas was easy to break if done right and she instinctively sensed that if it was Newt, he didn't have much of a chance against the blonde.

"Alright," Teresa grabbed the blonde's arm and pulled him into her bedroom, "we're gonna make sure you'll get Tom drooling and panting tonight, got that?"

Newt smirked. He probably had the best secret weapon in his arsenal. And who knew it would be his victim's very willing best friend?

Oh Tommy, you're going _down_.

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><p><strong>I am so so <strong>_**so **_**bloody sorry this fic is so short (and lacking highly of smut). I can't write too much since I sprained my hand trying to fix the TV and yeah. I'll be taking a 'mini-break' but I'll write whenever I can because I can't stand not writing for very long and ouch my wrist is hurting like a bitch. **


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